Welcome Home
by ijustreallylikesherlock
Summary: John Watson comes home from a work trip and is greeted by a pining Sherlock. In three, two, one, they're no longer platonic...[smut]


A/N: Okay, so I do loads of rping, but this is the first time I've ever tried smut on my own, so...Bear that in mind. In this, John Watson comes home from a work trip and is greeted by a pining Sherlock. In three, two, one, they're no longer platonic... That ticking clock. So bloody patronising with it's mock chimes as each hour passed by. Sherlock just stared from his seat, stared at the two hands making their way around achingly slow. 83 hours since John had left, but now it was only an hour until he came back home. And Sherlock found he was rather impatient. He was past pretending he didn't have feelings for John. Especially after that kiss they'd had. Yes, yes, it had been a drunken night at Lestrade's, and neither had brought it up again...But, it still happened. And, for Sherlock, that opened a door for him. Maybe not for John (hopefully for John), but most definitely for Sherlock. So, Sherlock was pining away over his flatmate who had left to go to some bloody medical conference in Scotland. Leaving Sherlock all alone. How could he? /Doesn't matter/. Sherlock reminded himself, licking his lips as that clock ticked by. /He'll be home within the hour/. Only forty minutes later, did the front door of Baker Street open. Sherlock heard that familiar pattern start to make it's way upstairs and he couldn't help the smile that came to him. ''Sherlock?'' John called. ''Blown up the flat yet?'' Sherlock hopped to his feet and walked to the door of their sitting room, opening it and standing aside for John. ''Near enough, the place is a mess.'' John walked in and he eyed his flat, then looked to Sherlock. ''...Right, you weren't joking. Exactly what did you do over these past three days?'' /Wait for you/. ''Oh, nothing really.'' Sherlock huffed out a breath. ''You were gone for a very long time.'' John set his bag down and shrugged off his coat. ''Yeah, three days. Bet you could rethink an entire library in that time, right?'' ''I did do a lot of thinking...'' Sherlock half-gazed at John. /Kissing you, cuddling with you, making sweet love with you, getting completely fucked by you/. He cleared his throat. ''Yes, just...thinking.'' John looked at his friend, seeing that odd expression /again/. Yes, last time he'd worn it had been just after they'd snogged each other senseless at that party. ''...Sherlock, are you alright?'' he asked, cheeks flushing a bit. ''I seem to have...missed you in your absence, John.'' Sherlock responded, glancing at his friend. ''But, I do believe how I would like to show my affection is unwelcome by you.'' John stayed staring at Sherlock for a good while, licking his lips subconsciously as he quietly and (annoyingly) slowly fitted the pieces together. In a flash, he was over at Sherlock, driving him back until he was pinned against the door. Sherlock gasped as John's lips connected with his own, and suddenly, there wasn't one piece of the two men that wasn't touching the other. All that hidden feeling and complete want for the other came rushing out, and BAM! John's hands were slipping up under Sherlock's pajama t-shirt, and Sherlock was reaching down to grab a handful of arse. Soon, with their lips still locked, John was pulling Sherlock back to Sherlock's own bedroom. They shut the door behind them will a bang, then proceeded to strip each other, never letting their kiss break, in this darkened room. By the time they were both only left in boxers, and standing at the foot of Sherlock's bed, he had to pull away, breathing heavily. ''John, I...'' His voice was low and husky and full of absolute need for the other man, but you could hear his nervousness. ''I've never done this.'' John stepped forward, taking both of Sherlock's hands. ''I will take care of you.'' he whispered tenderly, softly brushing his lips off Sherlock's. The detective felt a shiver run up his spine and he leaned a little into John's lips. Next thing they knew, and they were kissing again. John gently pushed Sherlock back onto the bed, then moved over him, looking down at that angelic face with all the love he could muster. ''You just need to relax.'' Sherlock nodded, and his hands moved up to cup John's face as he brought him in for another kiss. Everything was slow and caring and exactly what Sherlock needed, and what John wanted. John's hand slid down Sherlock's side and came to rest on his hip before he hooked two fingers into the fabric of his boxers. Sherlock gave a small nod and lifted his rear so John could rid him of his underwear. Sherlock's hands were at John's boxers now, and he pulled them away, biting his lip a little in anticipation. Once they were both so exposed, John and Sherlock caught each other's gaze and started giggling. John grinned and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's chest. He continued downwards, and with each kiss, Sherlock's breaths became more strained. ''This will help you to relax, okay, Sherlock?'' All Sherlock could manage was a nod, then a surprised noise of arousal as John took the tip of him into his mouth. It was a warm feeling,and it enveloped Sherlock slowly, then steadily until he was gasping and sweating beneath John as the old doctor moved up to grind his hips against Sherlock's. Hands slid over sweaty arms and backs as they rocked into each other, making the other cry out as their pleasure climbed towards its peak. Sherlock came first, with John only seconds after and their hips moved faster, pressing their cocks together as they came out onto each other's chest. Sherlock gave a cry, his noises; primal, raw and virginal, and the sight made John feel even more pleasure. When, at last, their orgasms subsided, John slid off a gasping Sherlock onto his back. He let Sherlock get his head sorted, before looking back at him with a fond smile. He grabbed one of Sherlock's throws and used it to mop off both their chests, before throwing it to the ground. He leaned over and kissed Sherlock's lips softly, cupping the younger man's cheek. ''Are you okay?'' he whispered. Sherlock smiled up at him and met his lips in another lazy kiss. ''I'm wonderful. What about you?'' He murmured against his lips. ''Feeling pretty okay.'' John grinned. They ended up laughing in each other's arms, like they would do for many years to come. ''Welcome home, John.'' 


End file.
